


The Rainbow Connection

by Chash



Series: Someday We'll Find It [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy’s used to not having a soulmate, most of the time, but everyone talks about it so much, it’s inevitable that sometimes, it really sucks. Like at weddings.Or when he likes someone.





	The Rainbow Connection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



> Inspired by [this post](http://kay-emm-gee.tumblr.com/post/173909004166/rebelgirlmatrix1213-claroquequiza)!

Bellamy will admit that sometimes, just sometimes, it sucks not having a soulmate. Like, for example, at his sister’s wedding to _her_ soulmate. And, okay, admittedly, if he had the choice between Octavia getting a soulmate and himself getting a soulmate, he would have picked Octavia, no question, no hesitation. But it’s not as if it actually works like that; the Blake family did not have a one-soulmate-only policy.

He just doesn’t get one, and it's a little painful right now.

“Okay,” says Clarke, “but explain to me how that translates to not dancing.”

Clarke is his second-favorite part of Octavia’s soulmate, with the first part obviously being Niylah herself and how happy she makes his sister. But Clarke is a pretty great bonus. She’s Niylah’s ex-girlfriend and maid-of-honor, which meant she and Bellamy worked together a lot on wedding stuff, and he thinks they’ve actually become friends. 

She’s kind of amazing, honestly, but every time he thinks that, he makes himself look at the swirls of black on the palm of her left hand, just waiting to burst into color at the first touch of someone who's not him.

“You know what it’s like, the first time you touch someone and find out they’re not your soulmate?”

“Yeah.”

“Every person who asks me to dance is going to touch me somewhere they can’t see bare skin, hoping that's where my mark is, and we're going to be soulmates. And when that doesn’t happen, they’ll ask where it actually is, and I’ll tell them I don’t have one, and we'll spend the rest of the dance talking about how hard that must be. They’ll feel better, I’ll feel worse.”

Clarke bites her lip, and he can tell she’s trying to come up with a good response.

Finally, she settles on, “Yeah, that would suck.”

“Pretty much. Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Keeping you company.”

"You don't have to."

She shrugs. "I don't mind. I'm not big on dancing. And I shook like every person here's hand, so they all know I'm not their soulmate either. Do you ever touch strangers?" she asks, sounding curious.

"Not if I can help it. Don't act like that's weird," he adds. "How often do you touch strangers? As soon as we talk, they find out I don't have anyone, so it stops being a big deal, but I hate random people I'm never going to talk to again feeling sorry for me."

"That makes sense. I can stop asking if--I'm curious, but I don't want to make you talk about it."

He smiles. "I don't mind. A lot of people just talk around it."

"Have you ever met anyone else who doesn't have a soulmate?"

"Yeah." He smirks at her. "Obviously, we didn't click. It was kind of hilarious, honestly. We wanted it to work out so badly we were just on our best behavior, and after like two months of the worst relationship ever, we got in a huge fight and realized we could never date each other. But he's my best friend now."

"Sucks you couldn't make it work."

He takes a sip of champagne. "It's not like it bugs me all the time. Most of the time it doesn't even come up. But, you know, weddings--"

"Yeah, everyone's kind of on high alert." She looks at her hand. "If it makes you feel better, it kind of sucks from this side too. Sometimes it feels so stupid."

"Yeah?"

"There was this girl in college I really liked. Not Niylah, someone else. And we both agreed, like--okay, we're not soulmates, it's fine. We don't have to be. And it was good, you know?"

"And then she met her soulmate."

"Yeah." She runs her hand through her hair. "And I want to be like, okay, _I_ wouldn't have done that. I wouldn't have ended it. But I honestly don't know what I would have done."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I don't think I could tell someone to--not. I've dated people who hadn't met their soulmates yet before, but it always felt like there was a timer on it, you know? It never happened to me like that, where the met them while we were together, but it just--didn't work."

"I guess not." She bites her lip. "Okay, this is depressing. More champagne and we can do running commentary on people's outfits?"

He laughs, clinks his glass against hers. "Sounds perfect."

*

He will admit that he's not expecting to see much more of Clarke after the wedding. It's not that he thinks she doesn't like him, or that he doesn't want to see more of her, it's just easy to lose track of people. The two of them had a project they were working on together, and now they're not. There's no reason for them to keep spending time together, honestly. They'll see each other at group things, probably, and like each other, and that's probably it.

Except _Ocean's Eight_ is coming out and Miller is out of town, and he finds himself texting her: _Hey, you want to go see Ocean's Eight?_

And just like that, they're friends. Clarke lives a few stops down from him on the train, so it's easy to meet up after work, grab drinks and hang out. He'll go to her place to watch Netflix, and she comes over for dinner because she doesn't know how to cook. It's not like they're hanging out every night, but they click together quickly and easily, and--maybe most important-- _mutually_. She proposes plans as often as he does, and they're both putting the effort in. Starting new relationships as an adult can be tough, and it's nice, that she seems as invested in this as he does.

Of course, Miller is the one to call him out on it. "Don't get a crush on a girl with a soulmate."

"I'm not."

"You're not?"

His shrug is just a little too calculated, but Miller probably won't notice. "We're friends. I know she's not, you know--" He waves his hand vaguely. "An option."

"Dude."

"Not everyone's as lucky as you are, okay? But I know it's not going anywhere."

Miller crosses his arms over his chest, watching Bellamy. He's dating a great guy whose soulmate isn't a romantic soulmate--Monty and Jasper are best friends, close in a way Bellamy finds a little boggling, but Jasper is straight and Monty isn't interested in him. Bellamy had spent the first year of their relationship convinced that Miller would get his heart broken, but now that he knows everyone better, he really thinks they'll last.

"I'm not saying--fuck, I don't know. I just don't want her to find her soulmate, and you--"

"I know." He huffs. "Jesus, I know, okay? She's got someone else. But I'm not going to just stop talking to her because we're not going to be together. I'm--" That's when his voice finally falters. "I like her, okay?"

Miller claps him on the shoulder. "Any time you need to get drunk, just let me know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he says again, like if he says it often enough it will magically come true. "It's worth it."

*

 **Clarke** : Can I come over?

Bellamy blinks at his phone, caught off guard. It's almost ten, which is late for Clarke, especially when they haven't already been hanging out. He's already wearing his pajamas, and he was thinking about lying in bed and reading until he passed out. Sad, maybe, but he doesn't have much reason to stay up late these days, even on the weekend.

 **Me** : Sure  
What's up?  
Did something happen?

 **Clarke** : Bad night  
Don't worry, I'm fine  
I let Wells talk me into going to one of those singles mixers and I just  
I'm in a bad mood and I want company

 **Me** : Sure  
Come on over

 **Clarke** : Thanks  
I'll be there in like twenty minutes

He thinks about putting real clothes back on, but immediately dismisses it. He's wearing a t-shirt and flannel pants, which is completely appropriate for company. Besides, this is _Clarke_. She doesn't really care what he's wearing, she just wants someone to make her feel better. 

Which is him; that's pretty great.

He makes sure he has beer and kills time reading, trying not to glance at his phone too much. He's glad she's coming over, but he'll feel better once she's here, and he can talk her through whatever's happening.

When she arrives, she's got a six pack of her own, and she's smiling sheepishly.

"Hey, sorry, I know it's late."

"It's 9:45, that's not exactly burning the midnight oil."

"Yeah, but I know you're old."

"Thanks." He cocks his head at her. She's looking nice in a blue dress and sandals, but weariness is written all over her body. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just--fed up. I shouldn't have agreed to go, but Wells thought I should--he thought it was a good idea."

He opens up two beers and hands her one. "I don't actually know what you went to."

"Lucky you. Not really," she adds, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. "It's this new--efficiency thing. I think some asshole tech bro came up with it. It's basically a party where you touch as many people as possible."

"So, an orgy."

She laughs. "I wish. It's basically just, like--get in line, shake everyone's hand, or touch them wherever their soulmark is, to see if anything happens."

"Jesus, that sounds depressing."

"Right? Some people like it, but--I don't get it."

"You want it to happen organically?"

"Kind of, but--it feels so stupid,” she says, leaning her head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Spending my whole life looking for this one person. Even if it’s great, I don’t want—“

“A soulmate? Trust me, the alternative isn't much better.”

She ignores him. “How do I know they're really going to be better? I know, I know, they're my soulmate. Everyone I know who's met theirs says there's nothing like it. And I want that! I do. But it's not fair that I get that and you don't. You deserve that. And sometimes—fuck, I can’t stop thinking about just never touching anyone in the world again except for you.”

He frowns. “Except for me?”

She turns to look at him, eyes flicking up and down his form. “I’d never know who my soulmate was. No one would ever--it wouldn't have to be a thing. I could wear gloves or something. 

His mouth goes dry. “Clarke—“

“I know it’s shitty.”

He shifts a little closer. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

It’s so stupid, but as soon as her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he's leaning in. Her eyes slide shut and her hand tangles in his hair to pull him in, and then they’re kissing, soft and slow, his heart beating out of control with joy.

He doesn’t get how it’s supposed to be better than this. It doesn't seem possible that he's missing anything.

"I don't think you never touching anyone else for the rest of your life is really an option," he murmurs, kissing down her jaw despite that. It can't last, but he also can't stop, not yet. He doesn't ever want to stop.

There's a pause, and then she laughs, bright and surprised, happy like he doesn't think he's ever heard her. "I don't think I have to."

"You have a better plan?"

"Bellamy." She tugs him up, still grinning, and holds up her left hand. It's burst into color, this brilliant, prismatic pattern winding over her skin, and his mouth goes dry.

"Did you really never touch me before?"

"No," she says, but it doesn't sound like it's a surprise to her. "You didn't want to shake hands, and I didn't--once I got to know you, I didn't want to see you _not_ being my soulmate. So I figured I could just--not."

He drops his head onto her shoulder, breathing slow and steady, trying to figure out how he feels. "I didn't even know that was possible," he admits. "For me to be your soulmate, but you're not--"

"I am."

He looks up at her, frowning. "You are?"

"You have black hair," she says, gentle. "Or, well, you _had_ black hair."

It takes him a second to catch up. "I had black hair."

"It's still got some black," she says. "Honestly, I'm jealous, it looks awesome. It would cost a lot to get a dye job that good."

The laughter takes over all at once, and he buries his face against her neck, the relief less because he's got a soulmate and more because it's _her_ , that he doesn't have to worry about her finding anyone else, that he can stop thinking about her skin lighting up and her drifting away.

"Fuck, I was so--"

"Me too."

"You were really going to try to not touch anyone else for the rest of your life?" he asks, looking up at her.

"I liked you so much, I didn't want to just be--killing time. I didn't want to be with you and then I found my soulmate and put you through that. I didn't want you to worry about me finding someone else."

He grins, leans up and kisses her again. "I guess I don't have to."

"No, you don't." She slides her hand back in his hair, which would probably be his new favorite thing even if it wasn't his soulmark. "You don't want to see?" she asks. "It really is awesome."

"Nah. It's not going anywhere. We've got better things to do, right?"

"Right," she agrees, and tugs him back in.

*

It is, admittedly, a bit of a shock when he sees himself in the mirror for the first time this morning, his hair all shot through with strands of color. It's not his whole head, and it's not just where she touched him, either, not spots where her skin hit, but every hair she touched lit up, each one running the full spectrum from red to indigo.

It's going to take some getting used to, but he already loves it.

Once she's awake, he gets Clarke to snap a picture, mostly because posting that to Facebook seems easier than trying to tell people. Combined with tagging Clarke in the _soulmate_ field, the whole thing is pretty unambiguous.

Octavia is the first person to comment: _the worst part of this is that I have to know for the rest of my life that the first time Clarke touched you was grabbing your hair, but congrats I guess_

Clarke buries her giggling against his shoulder. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“I could tell her you were kissing me, but I think I’ll let her imagination run wild for a little while.”

“Everyone is absolutely going to think I found out you were my soulmate when you were about to go down on me.”

“Not _everyone_.” He kisses her hair, sees Miller has just replied with a gif of what appears to be a rainbow-themed My Little Pony, which was about what he was expecting. "I think we'll live."

He can feel her smiling against his back. "Yeah. Worth it."


End file.
